


Through the Grapevine

by Carrogath



Series: In Sickness and in Health [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 17:56:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20710172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carrogath/pseuds/Carrogath
Summary: They weren't planning on marriage.Then Edelgard heard about it. And Dorothea. And Petra.





	1. Edelgard

Even after so many years, it didn’t feel right to utilize Seteth’s office, or to enter Rhea’s private chambers, for fear that she was desecrating something holy. Edelgard had conquered the monastery with her own troops—spilled blood in the name of the Empire—and so she should have felt justified in making use of any part of it. They could tear down the cathedral and build barracks in its place. They could relocate the contents of the mausoleum and use the space for extra storage. Years ago, she had liked the idea of expanding the classrooms and the library, and establishing a secular university in place of the monastery to foster her longtime love of learning.

For now, however, it would have to remain their stronghold.

“Where’s Mercedes…?” Edelgard asked. “Wait, don’t answer that.”

Ingrid sat, rather uncomfortably, in one of the chairs adjacent to Hubert’s desk. Though Hubert was nowhere to be seen, Edelgard had requested use of his office to discuss a number of sensitive matters with their allies from the Kingdom. It was odd, really, that they should be Ingrid and Mercedes of all people—Mercedes seemed averse to violence in general and Ingrid had been faithful to her kingdom since childhood—but Edelgard didn’t question their loyalties. From word-of-mouth, as well as from her own experience, she could determine that they were earnest, well-disciplined, and committed to the Empire’s cause, and that they rarely if ever caused trouble for those who were native to the Empire. The Imperial army was diverse to begin with—their troops hailed from Brigid and Dagda, from Gloucester in the Alliance to the territories in western Faerghus—so perhaps they didn’t feel quite as left out as Edelgard imagined.

Ingrid made as if to rise, and then stilled herself. “Perhaps… If you would like me to fetch her…”

“It’s only been a few minutes.”

Ingrid wrung her hands in her seat. She looked nervous. “This is about the next battle, isn’t it?”

They heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Edelgard said.

Mercedes walked in, and took a seat, offering Ingrid a brief smile before turning to face Edelgard. “My apologies. I was admiring the flowers in the greenhouse, and before I knew it—”

“No need to apologize,” Edelgard cut in. “I summoned the two of you to Hubert’s office because we determined on the basis of reliable intelligence that your classmates—the Blue Lions—are likely to be with Dimitri on the Tailtean Plains.”

Ingrid nodded. “I’m fully aware.”

Mercedes looked at her, and then back at Edelgard. “I’ve had no hesitations up until this point. I don’t see a reason to start now.”

“You’re… prepared to kill your friends?” she asked, stunned.

At that, Ingrid’s expression darkened. Mercedes’ didn’t change at all, which was telling in itself.

“To be clear, this is not a test of any sort. You both performed admirably at Arianrhod—I have no concerns about your abilities, or about your allegiances. Admittedly, I am not… entirely clear on why you both continue to serve the Empire, but I have reason enough to believe you will both remain faithful. That is why I am giving you a choice. Ingrid, especially.” She looked them in the eyes, Mercedes, and then Ingrid. “If you so desire—I will change your assignments. Ingrid, rather on the front lines, you will be on the rear guard. I anticipate that the main forces will be entering from Fhirdiad, in the east. Your task will be to handle any stragglers from Arianrhod or from Duscur, if that is indeed necessary. Mercedes, well… I know you were born in the Empire, but that you have lived most of your life in the Kingdom.”

“Really, Your Majesty,” said Mercedes. “It’s no trouble at all. I’d rather not have to wield any black magic, but I will not hesitate to do so to defend myself.”

“And you, Ingrid?” Edelgard looked at her. “How do you feel about these arrangements? Your talents as a Pegasus Knight are best utilized on the front lines.”

“I do hope you don’t believe I’ve gone soft,” she said, her voice tight.

“I was not implying that you had,” replied Edelgard, “but rather that you are only human. It’s normal to hesitate when faced with the prospect of killing your childhood friends. It’s more unsettling to think that you would not.”

Ingrid’s eyes widened, as if she hadn’t been expecting her to say that.

“I’ve ruined the lives of enough people. I would prefer to curb losses where I can. I have no desire to cause you lifelong trauma for the sheer sake of testing your loyalty to me. That is the logic of a tyrant. So do consider what I have asked you. We can replace your unit with another—the fighting will be fierce, but the Empire has always been well-furnished. Besides…” Edelgard looked away. “Dimitri is unstable. He knows that you’ll be with us. If he wastes his time trying to hunt you down out of some misguided thirst for revenge, then all the better if you aren’t even there.”

She looked down, as if she’d been struck.

“I don’t doubt your skills in the least, but we have our strategy to consider as well. If you have reason to believe that you might show any sort of weakness when faced with forces belonging to Gautier or Fraldarius, then I’d rather reserve your talents for another day. Bluntly speaking, I don’t care why you’ve decided to join us. I just don’t want it hindering your ability to fight.”

“You’ve been thinking about this,” she said, looking up at her with a wry smile.

“You’re too valuable to lose to some… madman’s blood feud with me. I… I really don’t understand why you turned against him. I doubt I would have had the strength of will to be able to do that, myself.” She looked at Mercedes, who was still seated and listening attentively. “It’s one thing to turn against your countrymen, but…” She shook her head. “Anyway, it’s your decision. But don’t feel as though you must risk your life to prove your loyalty. I think that’s ridiculous.”

“I accept your terms,” said Ingrid, almost immediately.

“Then it is settled. Your Pegasus Knights will be guarding the main army from the rear, as opposed to the front. Mercedes—I know I usually have you tending soldiers in the field…”

“It makes no difference to me where I’m assigned,” she replied.

“But do you have a preference?”

She and Ingrid exchanged meaningful glances, and Edelgard tried her best to avoid reading too much into them.

“Well,” said Mercedes, “do you expect an ambush from the rear? Surely they’ll notice if you position Ingrid’s soldiers in a different location on the battlefield.”

“It doesn’t sound like them,” Edelgard responded. “Fhirdiad will be the last major city to fall. I can assume they’ll employ some unusual countermeasures this time around, but our intelligence forces far outnumber those of the Church—not to mention we have Shamir. If we haven’t heard anything from her, it’s unlikely they’ll have changed any of their plans. This isn’t Claude we’re talking about. Besides, it would be risky for them to split up. The only advantage they have is their geographical location. Granted, it will be… nothing short of a slaughter, when so many of them are committing to dying on their native soil.”

“I’d expect reinforcements to come in from the north,” said Ingrid. “But from the west is unlikely. We defeated the Kingdom quite soundly at Arianrhod. And, to be frank, most people are exhausted from the years of fighting. Only King Dimitri’s and Archbishop Rhea’s most loyal troops still continue to side with them. I don’t disagree with your assessment that it will be a complete bloodbath. Dimitri is… no longer the man I once knew. After five years, we can’t expect any kind of détente. All this war has done is harden their beliefs.” She looked away. “I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn.”

“No,” replied Edelgard, “I believe you’re correct. This… was my decision. I know Dimitri believes I was responsible for the Tragedy of Duscur, mistakenly, but surely Rhea has been influencing him as my uncle has tried to influence me. There will be no victors here—only survivors.” She nodded to Ingrid, and then to Mercedes. “I’m sorry to have singled you two out. It must seem unbecoming of me, to have questioned your willingness to fight for the Empire just because you came from the Kingdom.”

“But you aren’t wrong,” said Ingrid. “And you have my gratitude for considering our situation so keenly.”

“It’s self-indulgent, is what it is,” she chuckled. “My friends and I had known you both personally, so of course I would be concerned. There are countless others who will have to face friends, or family, and I won’t know any of their names.”

Ingrid and Mercedes exchanged another one of those knowing glances. Just how close were they?

“You do realize,” said Ingrid, “that I serve the Empire because I find you personally to be a compelling leader. I may not agree with every one of your decisions, but I sympathize with your mindset, and I trust your judgment. I wasn’t forced to join the Imperial army, so it’s not as though I have any reason to resent you, or the Empire.”

Mercedes smiled. “I had thought the Church was a little too militant for the ideas that it claims to defend… My reasons go beyond that, of course, but in essence I was uncomfortable fighting for them. And, well, I didn’t want to leave Fódlan, either.”

“Oh,” said Edelgard. “Well, thank you for telling me, although I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

“No,” replied Ingrid, “everyone has selfish reasons for fighting. As you said: we’re only human.”

“This is still an unethical discussion to be having with your supreme commander.”

“You still let Dorothea call you ‘Edie,’” Mercedes remarked. “Though I suppose the supreme commander of the Imperial armed forces isn’t supposed to have any friends, either.”

“True… Anyway,” Edelgard finally said, standing, “that’s all I wished to discuss with you. You’re dismissed, Ingrid. Mercedes, please remain seated. I have an urgent matter that I must bring to your attention.”

“I understand.”

Ingrid bowed to her and left the room. Mercedes watched her as she walked out the door, and then turned back to Edelgard.

“What could you have to ask me that you couldn’t possibly—”

“Are you and Ingrid romantically involved?”

Mercedes smiled at her. “I suppose we weren’t being very inconspicuous about it.”

“Ah,” said Edelgard. Then she blushed. “I’d heard rumors circulating around the monastery, but…”

“Do you disapprove? I’m sure you do.”

“I can hardly control who in the army is going to develop feelings for each other,” she scoffed. “It’s distracting, but we really can’t afford to dismiss either of you on the account that you’re spending time together.” Edelgard paused for a moment, and then exhaled. “Never mind,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “I don’t even know why I asked.”

“Have we been causing trouble for anyone else?” Mercedes asked. “I certainly wouldn’t want to inconvenience anyone else. I know our time could be better spent in other ways, so if it’s disturbing the others…”

“I haven’t… heard any reports of your activities disturbing the others, no. I suppose some people have noticed that you and Ingrid are particularly close, and the two of you would normally be subject to disciplinary measures once I was able to confirm the rumors… but I really don’t care.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s not as though either of you are going to become pregnant as a result. As long as you remain able to perform your duties, you may spend your free time however you wish.”

“That’s very gracious of you,” said Mercedes.

“My energy is better spent focusing on matters other than who is seeing whom, if I may be entirely honest,” said Edelgard, looking back at her. “You may be dismissed. Thank you for your time, Mercedes.”

* * *

The third floor of the officer’s barracks was historically reserved for the Archbishop. Edelgard had been prompted to take the entire floor after they’d recovered the site from thieves, but she still felt uncomfortable spending time in what was formerly Rhea’s chambers, and usually slept in her old dorm beside Hubert’s room. The top floor did allow access to a handsome balcony that Edelgard frequented, mostly at night or before dawn, to feel the cool air against her skin and look up at the stars unfettered. While the door to Rhea’s room was locked, the door leading to the balcony was not.

It cracked open with a groan.

“Dorothea. What a pleasant surprise.”

A slow, broad smile spread across her face. “Edie. It’s just you and me up here today.” Her eyes scanned Edelgard’s face. “How has your evening been?”

“Exhausting.” She slumped over the balcony railing. “But when is it not?” She looked at her. “I spoke to Ingrid, by the way, about her next assignment.”

“Oh,” said Dorothea. “Then…”

Edelgard pushed herself upright. “She agreed to be positioned in the rear—though that isn’t where you’d normally expect a unit of Pegasus Knights to be placed. She didn’t seem to take offense to the fact that I was treating her differently… I suppose I was right in assuming that she didn’t want to fight them.”

“I’m glad.” She smiled a bit, though it soon faded. “It would have been… tragic, to have forced them fight to each other. Barbaric, even.”

“She’s good at hiding her emotions from me. I suppose that’s how knights are supposed to behave, unlike a certain someone…”

“Ferdinand,” Dorothea snickered. “But he’s a good man. Impulsive, insensitive… loud… but good. Ingrid really is something else, though.”

Edelgard glanced at her, and then back out toward the balcony. “How so?”

“No one expected her to side with the Empire. You would have never guessed that she was from the Kingdom, five years on, but I can’t imagine how she must be feeling right now. Of course she’d never show weakness around you, but… Well, I suppose we were never that close to begin with. She was a little more open when we were fighting the Alliance, but nowadays she hardly talks to anyone other than Mercedes.” She laughed. “You’d think they were in love or something, seeing the way they always seem to be in their own little world.”

“Oh,” said Edelgard.

Dorothea gave her a meaningful look.

Edelgard looked away so fast that her cape billowed from the motion.

Too late. “Edie…” Dorothea loomed over her. “What happened?”

She did not have the time to discuss this. “They are. I asked—I mean, I thought it would be prudent to know—Mercedes didn’t seem too terribly surprised to be asked about their relationship.” She glanced at her out of the corner of her eye.

She looked stunned. “Ah… Wait a minute.” Then she took a moment to compose herself. “You don’t mean to tell me that…” her eyes widened, “they’re actually a couple?”

“Dorothea, please, try to keep this to yourself…”

She covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh, Goddess…”

Edelgard counted down from three.

Two…

One.

Dorothea squealed and stamped her feet in a most unladylike manner. “Really? I mean… Those two? _Really_?”

Edelgard sighed. “Yes, Dorothea. I was considering whether to punish them, but on top of ordering them to kill their own countrymen, I don’t think I could ask them to sacrifice any more.”

“Oh my goodness.” She was still covering her mouth. “Oh, sweet Sothis. That’s… That’s wonderful. I wonder how long they’ve been… I knew it.” Her hands dropped from her mouth. “I knew it wasn’t just tea parties they were having in there. I thought they were a little too… But I would never have thought… Wow.” Dorothea looked at her. “I can’t imagine,” she said, and laughed. “They’re perfect for each other.”

“Yes, I understand, but please don’t disturb them just because you heard me say it.”

“I would never,” she huffed, feigning offense. “I was just going to… offer to be their wedding singer. They are getting married, eventually?”

“I don’t…”

“We should help them plan it! Me, I mean. I should help.” She turned away. “Of all the things this war has done to us, I can’t believe it brought them together. Oh, I might be tearing up a bit…”

Edelgard grinned wryly.

Dorothea hummed to herself and stared off into the distance. “It’ll probably be a modest affair, knowing those two… I wonder who will be invited. I suppose it’s not the best time to think about that right now…” She rested her hands on the railing. “I’m so happy for them. I could sing.”

Edelgard chuckled. “What song?”

“There’s an obscure opera from several years ago about a lady knight who dutifully served her king… Oh, I suppose I’ll have to change that to ‘emperor’ once I start singing it. One of the arias is performed by the character of the knight, who pines for the lover she left behind in her home village.” She looked at her. “It’s sung in Adrestian—I’m sure you’ll like it.” She smiled, and then cleared her throat, warming up her voice. “Hmm…”

Edelgard closed her eyes, and listened.


	2. Petra

The hooves of Ingrid’s mount pounded across the clearing like thunder, its wings beating up a storm. The beast surged forth, faster and faster, until it leaped into the air and soared into the sky. Ingrid raised her lance and thrust it forward as her mount landed, striking the air with a graceful _woosh_. The pegasus’s wings flared; momentum carried it forward for a good thirty meters more. Petra watched in awe as Ingrid and her steed reached the edge of the clearing, and then turned around and began trotting back.

“I am in admiration of your skills, as always,” Petra beamed, sliding off of her own mount—Bronagh—a female wyvern from “Almyran stock,” she had been told, and which she had been led to believe meant that its parents were originally from Almyra. She rubbed Bronagh’s snout and patted it on the head, letting go of the reins.

“Oh?” Ingrid smiled, which was rare of her. Petra could not blame her; the fighting was fiercer now that they were deep within Faerghan territory, and would likely stay that way until the war with the Kingdom was over. Her mount—Zephyrus, named for the wind—snorted as they approached, stomping the ground with its hooves.

She dismounted, leading her mount to the other end of the clearing and back into the forest outside Garreg Mach. Petra followed suit. Bronagh crawled alongside her; wyverns were awkward when not in the air, but they were unusually heavy for flying creatures and could not remain airborne for very long. She had been told that in the wild, they were often found clinging to mountainsides and nesting on high cliffs where they could seek prey from above. They would hurl themselves from atop the mountain and soar downward, snatching their prey in the jaws, and then climb up the mountain face back to their nests. Wyverns were not native to Brigid, which made them a fascinating area of study, and they had remarkably even temperaments once trained.

They did not have the ability to gallop, like pegasi, and so gaining altitude required an immense amount of effort. From there, they were able to glide for several dozen meters before landing. Diving was much more dangerous for a wyvern rider than it was for a pegasus knight, as wyverns weighed more than their equine counterparts. Only skilled riders were able to safely maneuver their mounts as they descended; she had heard stories of novice riders plummeting to their deaths from the sky.

Ingrid, however, was very comfortable in the air and on horseback, and although she presented herself as a refined lady knight, Petra thought she looked quite fierce on the battlefield and during training. It required great courage to take up arms during battle, and even more to do so against your former allies. Her skills would be welcome in Petra’s homeland of Brigid, where one’s martial ability was prized perhaps above anything else.

They walked together in silence, until Petra finally said, “Ingrid. I am… I have a question.”

Ingrid looked at her. “Yes?”

“It is no secret that you are originally from the Kingdom. I am sure that your talents were highly valued there. I am… Maybe it is not the right time to be asking this, but it does not appear that your loyalties are with the Empire. Um…” She paused. “My apologies. That was poorly worded.”

“I understand,” she said, and smiled politely. “You’re asking why I joined the Imperial army.”

“Yes,” Petra nodded, relieved that Ingrid had not misunderstood her.

She brushed her hand across her pegasus’s flank, thinking to herself. “I suppose you’re correct. It doesn’t have anything with countries, or allegiances. I think that if I were to return to Galatea, then I would be branded a traitor, and rightly so.”

“I… am not sure you answered my question.”

“Oh,” she said, and laughed. “I was just thinking out loud to myself. I don’t think my reasons are anything other than personal—that is, that I don’t think the future that my family had laid out for me would have made me happy, so I joined the Empire to change it.”

“To change… your future?” Petra asked. “I am in… I think we are similar. I would have opposed Edelgard if I did not believe she could change the fate of my people. But she has convinced me that change is possible. Whether she has convinced me wrongly, I still do not know. But for now I am willing to believe her.”

Ingrid smiled. “I see. Perhaps we are similar, then. Edelgard is a cunning leader—she understands people’s desires very well. She would even acknowledge that she’s being intentionally manipulative for the sake of her ideals. But I wouldn’t consider her cruel or coldhearted. If I wanted to escape the life that my father had planned for me, I would have had to oppose him anyway. I tried to convince him—” she stopped herself, suddenly— “but some things just aren’t meant to be.” Her tone and her expression were hard.

“But you have not abandoned your people?” Petra asked, and though she didn’t think she worded her question quite right, she still wanted Ingrid to answer.

“Abandon…” Ingrid slowed to a halt and stared at her. “I… I don’t know.” She looked down at the ground. “I don’t know whether they would accept me after everything I’ve done. I chose to side with the Empire of my own free will. I would like to return to Galatea, someday. But to be honest, I’m afraid.”

“Understandable. They might think you selfish. But if the Empire indeed wins the war, and you are able to bargain with the Emperor for your people, then that would put you in a better position than if you had sided with the Kingdom and lost.” Yes, that sounded correct. She did not want to celebrate prematurely, but she thought she sounded fluent for once.

“That would be the best outcome, I think,” said Ingrid. “Even if I were able to provide them with the resources of the Empire, I’m not sure they would be so willing to accept them. We were proud to be part of the Kingdom. Now that we’re likely to be conquered again…”

“Now is not the time for having pride, I think,” said Petra, sagely. “The health and safety of your people comes first. Maybe in Faerghus, some people would rather die than accept aid from a foreign nation. But I think that is… illogical. To suffer out of stubbornness is also selfish behavior. What you intend to do is wise. As long as you live, you can change your future. But if you die, then you have proven nothing.”

Ingrid smiled, as if she had realized something. “Yes… Yes. I believe you speak the truth, Petra.”

Petra beamed. “I do? That is wonderful to hear, Ingrid. I still have many struggles with the language of this land. Complicated thoughts are difficult to express. I do not wish to be misunderstood, but you appear to be… um, comprehending my words. My situation in the Empire is highly unusual. I was told that I am a political prisoner. But Edelgard treats me as one of her subjects, not as a prisoner. So it may be possible to negotiate for Brigid’s independence.”

“Oh,” said Ingrid, resuming her walk, “right. You’re the crown princess of Brigid, aren’t you?”

She nodded. “Indeed.”

Ingrid chuckled. “It’s so hard to tell with her, how generous she might be once the war is over… I have heard that there is much strife within the Empire, as well as outside of it. I’m amazed that she can keep the Empire united at all. I sympathize with her. I understand… Galatea is prone to famine—at least, when we try to raise the crops that have historically been grown in Faerghus—but having traveled more of the world, I see that perhaps I might need to try a different approach.”

“A different approach… Yes. I believe that is wise. Maybe this war is… What do you say… a ‘blessing in disguise’?”

Her eyes widened. “Is it?” She laughed again. “I’m not so sure I would say that.”

“Oh,” said Petra, having remembered it, “congratulations.”

Ingrid froze in place. “Congratulations? Whatever for?”

“Dorothea said… you are…” her brow furrowed, “to be married? To Mercedes?”

Her face turned very red, and then she gasped. “So that’s what she wanted to discuss! Damn that woman,” she muttered. “That is a gross abuse of power.”

Petra felt as though she had done something terribly wrong. “Did I say something to offend you?” she asked, helplessly.

Ingrid looked at her and laughed, as if she’d just remembered that Petra was still standing there with her. “No, no. Edelgard called us into Hubert’s office to discuss war plans and asked Mercedes to stay behind after I had left. I assume she wanted to ask about our… relationship.”

“Was it meant to be a secret?”

“Well, no, but we have no wedding plans as far as I’m aware.”

“Oh,” said Petra, feeling a sense of relief at the fact that Ingrid had not taken offense at her, in particular. “I am sorry for assuming that you did.”

“No, don’t be.” She waved her hand. “I know Dorothea can be hard to understand, sometimes.”

“Then,” Petra blinked, trying to keep track of which direction the conversation was now going, “Dorothea did not mean it when she said that she wanted to be the singer at your and Mercedes’ wedding?”

“Correct. Not unless…” She laughed. “Never mind.”

“Is this what you would call a case of ‘wishful thinking’?” Petra asked, out of curiosity.

“Indeed.” Ingrid looked up at the sky through the canopy of the forest, speckled with sunlight that filtered through the trees. “Now then, shall we be off? I believe we’ve dawdled here long enough.”

Dawdled, dawdled… She would have to look up that word later.

“Yes,” Petra clenched her hand into a fist. “With pleasure!”


	3. Dorothea

“I never did understand how you two could spar without murdering one another.”

Petra remained unnaturally still as Dorothea applied the salve to her bruised and swollen skin. She resembled a trained hound.

No, that wasn’t right. A lioness? Yes. Proud and majestic. She even had the hair for it.

“We have an understanding that the attacks are not meant to be lethal,” Petra explained, though Dorothea was only half-listening, too distracted by her face and her skin and her closeness. She was worrisomely soft and warm to the touch, and the fact that she looked so relaxed only made it worse. (What was “it,” one might ask? Her pure and unsullied love for her dearest friend, of course, on whom she had no designs of any sort whatsoever.) As Petra rambled on, adorably, Dorothea allowed to her gaze to linger on Petra’s shoulder and the markings there, mottled by a darkening bruise, but still stark against her skin. She resisted the urge to touch them needlessly—though Petra didn’t flinch at her touch, not anymore—and settled for wiping off her hands and putting them in her lap, where they had no chance of pinning anyone down on the bed on which they were currently seated.

She was starving.

She always had been—she’d developed an unflattering reputation at the academy for being sexually promiscuous, albeit exaggerated beyond the limits of human physiology—and though she stayed in contact with fewer people nowadays, the desire to be with someone still burned white-hot within her. The war hadn’t diminished her yearning by any means, but she had little energy to expend on anything other than ensuring her own survival. She was just as lonely as ever, and, on top of which, she didn’t even feel like doing anything about it.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

The question jolted her out of her reverie. “Ah… I’ll admit, I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

“Many people do. Would you like to share?” Petra looked at her, and wholly without pretense.

Dorothea had to smile. “No, it’s nothing new, what I’m worried about.”

“That does not mean it is no longer worth sharing.” She caught herself. “That is, if you would prefer. I do not mean to force you.”

She chuckled. “No offense taken. You know,” she said, putting a finger to her chin, “as young as you are… I think you have a lot more sense in your head than most other adults.”

“Why do you say that?” Petra asked.

“You’re just so—oh, what’s the word—unpretentious. Most people, you know, they feel like they have to act a certain way to fit in, but you never did. I’m not even sure it would have occurred to you to do that—but even if it didn’t, I think you’re really something special.”

“Oh,” said Petra, as though she suddenly realized that what Dorothea was saying was meant to be a compliment. “I am flattered.”

And a little dense, Dorothea thought, though she could hardly fault her considering she was still learning the language. She looked at her, tilting her head. Petra stared back with that lupine look of hers.

“Is there something on my face?”

“Oh, no. Nothing like that.”

She looked peeved. “Dorothea,” she said, “I misunderstood you the other day. I congratulated Ingrid on her engagement when she was not, in fact, to be wed.”

Dorothea burst into chuckles. “Oh, my goodness. I am so sorry—I should have never…”

“No,” she said, sullenly, “I should have understood that you were only expressing a wish of yours. It is hard to… to understand when you mean what you say in a literal sense, and when you do not.”

She sighed. “And knowing her, she’s probably going to blame me if rumors start going around that they’re engaged to be married…” She bit her lip. “Of all the things Edelgard is good at, social etiquette isn’t one of them. Hopefully she didn’t go around blurting the details of their relationship to anyone else.”

“Do you think Ingrid was disturbed? I do not wish to trouble her,” said Petra.

“By you? Doubtful. By me, Mercedes, or Edelgard? Probably.” She looked Petra up and down, indulgently. “I’m jealous of them, though. They’re both such lovely people, and I’m sure they’ll be even lovelier together. Ah, well. As they say in Nuvelle, ‘C’est la vie.’”

“Say… What?”

“It’s an old saying that means, ‘That’s life.’ I shouldn’t be so resentful of another person’s happiness.” She smiled at Petra, and covered Petra’s hand with her own. “After all, I have wonderful people like you to keep me company.”

Petra smiled back. “Yes. I have experienced much happiness from spending time with you. I will wholeheartedly support your desire to be the singer at their wedding, should it ever come to be.”

Dorothea giggled into her hand. “You know, I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all day.”

Petra leaned in, closing the distance between them—and then hesitated.

Dorothea blinked at her. Her eyes were wide.

“I am sorry,” she said, baffled, “I just felt as though…” She glanced away, suddenly bashful. “For some time, I have been wondering…”

Dorothea’s heart thudded in her chest. She bit her tongue, so as not to pressure her companion.

“I thought you looked…” Her brow furrowed. “Beautiful.”

Her mouth went dry.

“Excuse me.” Petra stood up. “I don’t think I am ready to… be having this conversation,” she said, and then left.

Dorothea stared at the crease in the mattress where Petra had just been sitting.

She couldn’t have imagined all of that. Or could she?


	4. Ingrid

Ingrid groaned into her hands.

“As I was saying, if you are in need of a wedding venue, House Aegir would be more than willing to supply you two with whatever your heart desires. We are in possession of some of the finest vineyards the Empire has to offer…” Ferdinand was speaking very loudly and animatedly in the middle of the dining hall, and Ingrid had long since abandoned her attempts to silence him.

It had been a week since Edelgard had called them into her office. Four days since she had gone sparring with Petra. Two weeks since she had fallen asleep in Mercedes’ bedroom. And a month since they had confessed their feelings in the ruined chapel, when it seemed as though all their hopes for the future were falling to pieces. It had seemed like forever, but it had scarcely been a few weeks.

“…seeing as how we are ever so grateful for your continued support of the Empire…”

“Mercedes…” Ingrid moaned, turning to her now extremely famous lover. “How do you make him stop?”

“Oh,” she giggled, “I just let him ramble on. I think it’s quite endearing, myself. Don’t you?”

“And now, I propose a toast!” He stood up, stomped on the surface of one of the dining tables, and raised his mug of ale high into the air. “To our allies from the Kingdom, Ingrid Galatea and Mercedes von Martritz! May they find joy in the beloved arms of our glorious Empire! Long live the Empire! Long may she live!”

The occupants of the dining hall, many of them inebriated, roared their approval. Ferdinand burst into raucous song, and the rest of the hall soon followed; Caspar challenged Alois to an arm wrestling match in the corner, while Linhardt beside him looked as though he was about to fall asleep. She caught the eyes of Dorothea, who winked at her, and of Edelgard, who conspicuously looked away. Hubert looked terribly bored. Bernadetta, who had been sitting beside Ferdinand before he had started off on his speech, didn’t seem to know what to do with herself. She looked desperately at Petra, who looked just as perplexed. Manuela and Hanneman started arguing in a separate corner. Shamir was on her way out.

Ingrid stood up, and then, with a nod of acknowledgment to Mercedes, followed Shamir away from the dining hall.

Shamir turned almost as soon as they had left.

“Congratulations,” she said, and if she had meant for it to sound sarcastic, she’d succeeded.

“We’re not…”

“Getting married?” Shamir smiled. She rarely smiled with mirth, but it looked genuine this time.

Ingrid followed her into one of the empty courtyards. The gazebo was deserted—it rarely ever was. In the darkness, it looked as though it had been abandoned.

“I’m jealous. You’ve found a good partner.”

“Oh,” replied Ingrid, for lack of anything better to say.

Shamir leaned against one of the pillars. “That’s what we told each other. We didn’t need any kind of label to describe our relationship. So we settled on ‘partner.’ It took on more meaning than either of us had intended. And now it’s all in the past.”

“Did you…”

“Of course I did.”

Ingrid fought back the urge to wince. “That sounds… awful. I can’t even imagine.”

“Then don’t.” Shamir stretched languidly, as if the direction their discussion had taken hadn’t bothered her at all. “I made my choice. You made yours. There’s no room left for regrets.”

“Pardon me for asking this, but…” Her brow furrowed. “You didn’t hesitate to leave the Church at all?”

“I did. But that was a long time ago. I don’t see any reason to dwell.”

“That doesn’t sound healthy,” said Ingrid, maybe too honestly.

“Perhaps not.” Her expression was unreadable. “But this is war. You hesitate, you die. And I’m not going to be the one dying.”

Ingrid clenched her teeth. “If that’s what you believe, then you must lead a pitiful existence!”

Shamir stared at her. She didn’t look angry—just surprised.

“I…” She took a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out at you. I know it must have been a painful decision. I respect that you were able to make it so earnestly.”

“Oh,” said Shamir. “It hurt. But we had our differences, and so we parted ways. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s no more complicated than that. I was prepared for the possibility that this might happen. Neither of us consider it a betrayal.”

“Truly?”

She looked away, tellingly. “Of my beliefs?” she murmured. “No.”

But of your feelings, Ingrid thought.

“I proposed the idea of marriage, once or twice. Although neither of us were ever the type. We were never going to settle down, so.” She shrugged. She seemed listless, as though she were wearing herself out on purpose by having this conversation. “Who knows what could have happened.”

“You’re still thinking about it,” Ingrid remarked, wryly.

“It’ll pass. Old relationships scar over, leave little bumps and ridges. But their absence shouldn’t kill you.”

Her gaze flickered over a scar—a thin white line that crossed Shamir’s collarbone, the ghost of a glancing arrowhead—and then away.

“What about forming new ones?” she asked.

Shamir smiled cryptically. “I wasn’t looking for pity. To be honest, I’m more interested in your relationships. Mercedes is a good person. She’s been through a lot. I can see it in her eyes. Whatever she sees in you, you’re lucky that she does.”

“Hm?” she said. “Why would you say that?”

“I know her type: noncommittal, diplomatic, vague. She lures you in, and then at the very last moment says something to throw you off. But you’re too straightforward. You don’t really have an ego.” Shamir folded her arms. “I don’t think she’s all that used to people being nice to her for no reason.”

“You think some people might have taken advantage of her?” Ingrid asked.

“I wouldn’t be surprised. Not you, though. I’d be shocked if you were the type.”

“I would never.”

“Good.” Shamir looked at her, searching her face, and then her expression changed. She looked oddly sentimental. “You think she’s the one?”

Ingrid blushed. “I… I can’t say.”

She held her hand out and opened and closed her palm, beckoning her over. “Let me give you some advice.”

“Um…” Ingrid took a few steps closer, until Shamir was close enough to lean over and whisper in her ear.

When she straightened back up, Ingrid stared at her, not quite comprehending was any of that was supposed to mean.

“See if she’ll like it.” Shamir looked back at her. “What? Haven’t gotten that far yet?”

_Oh_.

Ingrid flushed to the tips of her ears.

“The first time I tried that with Catherine, she liked it so much she almost lost her voice the next morning,” Shamir laughed. “Had to blame it on a cold even though it was the middle of summer. And Catherine never gets sick.”

Ingrid looked down, certain that her face was about as red as a tomato. “We… We’ve not done anything of the sort.”

“Cherish it.” Shamir smiled. “It’s only going to get more complicated from now on.” She turned on her heels and waved from behind. “Anyway. I’m going back to my room. I never was good with crowds.”

Ingrid watched her go, leaving her alone with nothing but her thoughts.

Or, at least, that would have been the case had Mercedes not materialized, wraith-like, before her.

Ingrid nearly leapt back. “Mercedes! Say something if you’re there.”

“It’s difficult to see you in the dark,” she explained. “I had to get closer to confirm it was really you standing there.”

“You could… have announced your presence,” Ingrid said, beginning to relax.

“That was Shamir you were just talking to, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Ingrid looked at her. “And I daresay you have less presence than her.”

“I’m disappointed that you still don’t notice me, even after everything we’ve become to each other.”

“I’m sorry,” Ingrid said lamely.

Mercedes giggled. “Just kidding. I know how you tend to get lost in thought when you’re alone.” She smiled fondly and placed a hand on Ingrid’s shoulder, and Ingrid felt a little flutter in her chest. “Shall we go back? Ferdinand is so intoxicated he isn’t making sense anymore.”

“Mercedes.” Ingrid looked at her, with the most serious expression she could muster.

“Yes.”

“I was not… fully informed of your conversation with Edelgard after I had left her office, a week ago. It seems to have to do with all the rumors going around about our supposed engagement. So I have to ask…” She paused.

Mercedes tilted her head. “Ask away.”

“Do you… want us to marry?”

Mercedes laughed aloud at that. “I hadn’t considered it! Truly. I don’t know who started the rumor. Perhaps it was one of Edelgard’s associates.”

Dorothea, Ingrid thought with an inward groan. Then Dorothea told Petra, and Petra told… whomever, and now Ferdinand had made sure every other person stationed at the monastery was now aware of their “engagement,” the wedding of which was apparently now going to take place on the Aegir estate, in their largest and most prized vineyard, furnished with all of Ingrid’s favorite foods and as much drink as they could handle.

“It’s nice that they’re so supportive of us,” Mercedes continued, as if reading Ingrid’s mind. “Isn’t it?”

“I suppose,” she answered warily. “But it’s been five years. Of course I consider them all comrades and dear friends.”

Mercedes stepped under the gazebo and giggled again. “I can hear it already. Dorothea singing as you walk down the aisle to meet me…”

“Oh,” said Ingrid. “So I’m the woman in this situation.”

“Well, no… Oh, I suppose one of us has to walk down the aisle to meet the other. Wouldn’t it be nice, though? I could make all of your favorite sweets.”

When worded like that, it did sound a bit more tempting.

“No,” said Ingrid. “Wasn’t the whole point…”

“That neither of us wanted to be married? Not to strangers, perhaps. But to each other?”

Ingrid blushed. “I must admit, I find the thought rather vexing. I’d always considered marriage to be an obligation… Something I did for the sake of my family.”

“Well… You probably have already realized this, but I would love to be married to you.” Mercedes smiled. “I think you’re a wonderful person, and I would be overjoyed to be able to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Ingrid began toying with the edges of her tunic, flustered. “I-I… Isn’t it a little too early to be having this conversation? I still have Galatea to worry about…”

“We both have Crests. Or is that not the issue?”

She had to be teasing her.

“Mercedes.” Ingrid stepped under the gazebo and took both of Mercedes’ hands in her own, fully aware of how they would look to passersby. Her heart hammered in her chest. “I would do anything for you,” she said, squeezing her hands. “I love you more than words can express. If you would like for us to be wed, then I will find a way to make that happen. I promise.” She brought Mercedes’ right hand up her face, and gently kissed the tips of her fingers. “But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.”

Mercedes didn’t look convinced. “Are we?”

She slid a hand across Mercedes’ arm, up to her shoulder, and let it rest at the back of her neck to brush against her hair, reveling in the way her touch unsettled her.

“You want to devote your life to helping people. I have matters to settle in my home territory. We didn’t expect our paths to overlap in this way—”

“I want to help _you_, Ingrid,” she said, and it sounded very unlike her. “Not ‘people.’ I know how the people of Galatea are suffering. I want to help them, as well.”

“Oh.” She was going to tear up again. “Thank you.” She leaned up and kissed her, a mere brush of the lips, and leaned back down.

“So?” said Mercedes. “What now?”

“We leave for the Tailtean Plains tomorrow,” said Ingrid, with a wry smile once she saw the disappointment plain on her lover’s face. “I love you so fervently that it’s burning me up inside. If we start discussing marriage now, then I might just lose my mind.”

“Oh,” she said. “We can’t be having that, then, can we?”

Now that sounded more like her.

She grasped Ingrid’s face in her hands and kissed her once, twice, on the lips. “So what will you be doing tonight?”

Ingrid blushed, all too aware of what Shamir had whispered in her ear mere moments ago. “Resting, most likely. I must conserve my energy for the battle ahead, even if I won’t be on the front lines.”

“I see.” Mercedes frowned, thinking to herself. “Yes, that makes sense. Is there anything I can do for you in the meanwhile? We’re not going to see each other very much until the war with the Kingdom is over.”

“I know.” Ingrid pressed their foreheads together. “It’s been so long, and yet the time we’ve spent together feels so short. I feel like I hardly know you,” she laughed. “I want to know everything—so much more. It’s driving me absolutely mad. It’s as though I don’t even care about the war anymore. All I want…” she tilted her head up, so that she could see Mercedes’ face, “is to make you happy—no. The happiest person on earth. I will fight this one last battle with all the strength I can possibly muster. Will you support me in this endeavor, Mercedes?”

“Of course,” she laughed, kissing her again. “Of course.” She hummed a little into the kiss. “And once it’s over,” she murmured against her lips, “once there’s no more war… Do you think you’ll…”

“I do.” Ingrid wrapped arms around Mercedes’ neck and kissed her fiercely, passionately, hoping that she could convey even a little of what she was feeling through her actions, because words, words never seemed enough. She would say it as many times as Mercedes wanted to hear it, for lack of anything more to offer her.

She would fight to end this war, and bring about the peace that Mercedes had so desperately desired, and then, she thought, she might finally be deserving of this amazing woman, after all. One last fight.

Nothing else would stop them.


End file.
